


Permanently Barred

by pennysparrow



Series: A crooked politician? Yeah but that ain't news no more [11]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Barricade Day, Barricade Day 2019, Don't copy to another site, Gen, Mild Language, Minor Violence, Modern Era, Parallels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 07:11:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19102234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pennysparrow/pseuds/pennysparrow
Summary: What starts as a night out might just end with being thrown out of the bar.*One Shot*(It says it's a part of a series but there is ZERO (0) need to read the rest for this one. It's completely stand alone. Just know they're college students and it's set in Washington D.C.)





	Permanently Barred

**Author's Note:**

> I owe a huge debt of gratitude to [WritingToKeepMySanity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingToKeepMySanity/pseuds/WritingToKeepMySanity) for this. Thank you Disney for letting me bounce ideas off of you and for finding me pretty clothes for the boys and for putting up with my utter exhausted inability to comprehend hats. <3

There was a slight crash from elsewhere in the House. Enjolras didn’t react though, there was always a slight crash from somewhere in the House. At this point in his life he was beginning to believe that there was just always going to be the sound of minor crashes in his vicinity. So, he kept working not fully registering the sound.

He did register Courfeyrac’s howling as it resolved itself into words being sung from directly in front of him.

“I wanna go- ou-OOUT toNII-IGHT!”

Enjolras paused but didn’t look up from his laptop as he tried to place the line. He frowned when it finally clicked and almost didn’t _want_ to look up from his laptop, fully expecting to see Courf dripping glitter and wearing fishnets and leopard print like Mimi had in the movie. Grantaire had made him watch _RENT Live_ with the rest of the ABC but they had all agreed not to speak of it and as such he honestly couldn’t remember the scene in that version. Also, his brain was a bit overstuffed on more pressing matters; like getting the proper permits for the rally that Cosette, Musichetta, and Eponine had taken point on organizing.

Bracing himself he glanced up. Enjolras was shocked by Courfeyrac’s outfit for a very different reason. He wore a full suit with a vest and bowtie, an umbrella clutched in one hand, hat in the other as he threw his arms out. It wasn’t the boring cut and colors worn by those who worked on the Hill either. It was a deep green that was almost black with the vest an incrementally lighter hue with metallic threads and the bowtie a mossy green. Or at least he’d call it mossy, Grantaire could tell him the exact shade later. The cut was impeccable and Enjolras could tell it had been expensive which might explain why he’d never seen it before. Alternatively, it might not as Courf didn’t shy away from his family’s wealth if it was for a good purpose and investing in a quality suit for various functions definitely counted as such.

Courf grinned and carefully set his hat onto his cloudlike head of curls. “C’mon Enj, take a break. You’ve been driving yourself crazy feeling like your hands are tied on these bills while simultaneously running yourself ragged helping the ladies get all their ducks in a row for the rally. Plus,” his expression slipped from charming to pleading, “it’s my birthday.”

“No, it’s not. Your birthday was ages ago,” he felt compelled to point out.

That earned him an eyeroll. “Yes and I turned twenty-one and we couldn’t go out and party properly because it was right before the election and then we kept pushing it off and pushing it off because there were admittedly much more important things but we all agreed that once the semester was officially over for everyone we’d have me a birthday party. The time has come my friend.”

Enjolras felt his brows pull together as he thought. “When did we do that?”

“April,” Courfeyrac said fondly. “After I had to cancel it again because I got picked to be a lawyer in the moot Supreme Court that was my ConLaw final. We all agreed to an arbitrary date in early June. It is now said arbitrary date and I got an A in that class so we’re going. Now.”

Enjolras knew that there was no arguing with Courfeyrac when he was like this. Besides, he was sure he’d agreed to this back in April and in the haze of finals and everything else in the past two months had just forgotten about it. If Enjolras was being quite honest with himself, he hadn’t been fully aware that it was even June. That did explain why the giant pride flag was hanging in the front window though.

He raised a finger to Courf, asking him to wait and just knowing Courf was raising his eyebrows in response. Enjolras finished the sentence he had been typing, hit save, and closed his laptop. “Ok. Give me a second to change.”

“Wait, you’re not going to fight me on this?” Courf trailed after him as he headed for the stairs.

“It’s your birthday,” Enjolras replied. He stopped with his foot on the stairs and turned to grin at Courfeyrac.

This was met with a huge smile and an equally huge hug before Courf was pushing past him and rushing up the steps. “I am not letting you dress yourself then! You obviously have no memory of what you agreed to and I refuse to let you ruin this for me!”

~

“This is such a tourist trap,” Enjolras said as he sneered in the direction of the White House.

“Yes,” Courf conceded, “but I’d never been and it’s the roof of The Willard and I’m only a local by virtue of the college I attend.”

“Besides, we’re not the only non-tourists here,” Ferre said and jutted his chin in the direction of a group of men, all dressed in suits that were decidedly more boring than Courf’s and decidedly cheaper. They were the uniform of staffers and lobbyists. While not out of place in the city they were out of place there at that hour.

“Well,” Courf huffed, “you two can stand here and people watch all night but it’s my birthday and I’m going to have a good time. And look! There’s our friends! Doing the same thing!”

Courfeyrac raised his glass in the direction of where Bahorel and Grantaire had managed to pull Feuilly onto the dance floor and headed towards them. Enjolras watched as Jehan emerged from the crowd, head thrown back and laughing wildly with Marius and Eponine trailing behind. Musichetta was still at the table next to them though, swirling her drink and giggling at the memory of Bossuet spilling his own all over himself before being ushered off to the bathroom to be cleaned up by Joly.

“At the very least we could go eavesdrop on them,” Ferre suggested dryly.

That made Enjolras snort. “Why not. Liquor makes for loose lips, might learn something interesting.”

~

Courfeyrac rolled his eyes when he noticed them camped out at the table next to the group of young men. They were rather loud to begin with and as the night went on and the drinks flowed faster they got even louder.

Enjolras bristled as they made yet another prejudiced remark. His friends were starting to tire, needing to catch their breath and wanting to chat.

“Any reason you’re here holding down the fort, Enj?” Bahorel asked, clapping him on the shoulder as he came up to them.

He jerked his head towards the table next to them and Bahorel raised an eyebrow, slotting himself between Enjolras and the other table silently. One of them made another remark and Bahorel’s other eyebrow rose to meet his first.

“All night,” Enj muttered acidly.

Bahorel shook his head and moved closer to Enjolras and further from the men.

“And you haven’t said anything?” Feuilly asked, genuinely surprised.

Combeferre snorted. “Oh, he’s said lots of things; just under his breath.”

“I’m trying to be on my best behavior,” he muttered darkly.

“Oh really? And how’s that working out for you?” Grantaire teased. He shot a dark look towards him in response.

Marius’s phone began to ring loudly, preventing him from formulating a proper retort as everyone’s attention turned towards watching the other boy scramble to pull the device from his pocket before it stopped.

“It’s Cosette, I promised we’d talk every night while she’s on vacation. I have to take this,” Marius said in lieu of apology. He quirked a smile before rushing off towards a quiet corner of the bar and picking up.

“I’d be mad if they weren’t so damn cute,” Courf sighed.

There were mumbled agreements but Enjolras’s attention was once again drawn to the table beside them. “That’s it,” he muttered before whirling on them. “You really believe that you’re making the world a better place? For who? Please, tell me.”

The men blinked, dumbfounded or blindsided he didn’t know and didn’t care.

“Because all you’re really doing is making it a better place for people like you and worse for everyone else. People like you who don’t even need it. Who society panders to and has for centuries. While millions of people struggle every day just for an inch of respect. And then what do you do? You don’t even give them that.” Enjolras hadn’t meant to but his voice had gotten incrementally louder as he spoke and he found himself out of breath from yelling, his chest heaving as adrenaline decided to pour into his system.

“What’s your problem, man? Why do you even care?” One of them asked.

Enjolras closed his eyes and tried to keep his temper in check, really he did, but the question was too similar to the way Grantaire would rile him at meetings and it elicited an almost Pavlovian response. He exploded.

“Why do I care? I care because I’m a decent human being. I care because I want to help. I care because I can make a difference. I care because I know people will listen to me when they might not listen to someone else. I care because there are real life people out there who need someone to care about them. I care because caring is the bare minimum you can do.”

Enjolras could feel his friends closing ranks around him. Suddenly Combeferre and Bahorel were at his shoulders and he could feel someone, Courfeyrac or maybe Feuilly, press a hand into his back. Joly and Jehan were at the corners of his vision and he could see Bossuet and Musichetta begin to speed towards them from across the bar; Eponine and Grantaire were unseen but he knew they were there too.

“Grow up kid. And learn to hold your liquor,” one of them jeered and the others all laughed. Enjolras tensed but Bahorel was already moving, launching himself at them.

“Learn to hold your tongue,” he snarled as his fist connected with the guy’s jaw.

For a second, the jerks all froze. It was all the group of friends needed to begin moving. None of them were strangers to fights and at this point they could all tell when a brawl was brewing, if they didn’t strike first then it would be too late for them.

Enjolras had only taken two steps towards the table when they got over their surprise and he was forced to block a messy punch before countering with a solid one of his own. Bahorel had started giving him the occasional boxing lesson and R had insisted that they practice together, saying they could take out mutual frustrations on a punching bag instead of each other and insisting that for Enj it was a necessary life skill. These all paid off as the guy stumbled back, clutching at his nose as blood streamed from it.

He heard a gasp and looked up to see that Bossuet and Musichetta had reached them. And that Musichetta had just upended the drinks she had been carrying over one of their heads. He laughed at the satisfaction it brought to her fierce expression.

His distraction had cost him though because suddenly he felt himself careening to the side, his temple stinging. Enjolras had been punched in the side of the head and it had made stars burst behind his eyes. Dizzy, he spun to try and face his assailant, only to find that Eponine had already grabbed him and forced him to the ground. Likely after a kick to the balls and a knee to the gut. He nodded his thanks to her and she nodded grimly back. Her hair had come loose of the careful twists she had it in and she swiped at the strands as she turned to help Jehan.

Turning himself, Enjolras found the man he initially punched had recovered and joined two others and were slowly backing Courfeyrac and Combeferre towards the wall. He rushed over and slammed his foot into the back of the guy’s knee, kicking him once more as Courf and Ferre each went after the others.

“Gotta say,” Courf gasped as they quickly stepped away from where the three were slowly trying to get up, “this is not how I saw tonight going.”

“Happy birthday,” Combeferre offered with sarcastic tilt to his lips.

“I don’t know, Courf,” Enjolras couldn’t help but start to smile himself, “I think teaching some dicks a lesson is a great birthday present.”

Courfeyrac huffed. “Well now I know what to get _you_.”

Enjolras laughed, temporarily distracted. It cost him. He was clipped in the chin and sent stumbling into Courfeyrac and Combeferre.

“Oh no you don’t,” Grantaire said, appearing behind the man who had begun to bear down on them. R grabbed the man by the shoulder and whirled him around, punching him directly in the face before grabbing his shoulders and hauling him down to meet the knee that he was shooting up and aiming for the man’s stomach.

The man toppled easily and with it Enjolras finally got a clear view of Grantaire who looked more than a little worse for wear. Drinks, blood, and other liquid now dotted his nice shirt and the hat he’d been wearing when they arrived was gone. R reached out a hand and Enjolras took it, letting him help pull him to his feet. Looking down Enjolras realized that he wasn’t in much better shape, his blazer was rumpled and there was a new rip somehow in the knee of his jeans.

“You ok?” Grantaire was asking as around them the fighting came to a near sudden stop. Management had finally taken notice and sent a bouncer to break it up.

“Fine,” Enjolras said, wiping his hair out of his face.

“I’m going to ask you all to leave,” the bouncer was saying.

“Gladly!” Courfeyrac jutted his chin into the air and smoothed down his ruined jacket. “We don’t want to be somewhere we’re not welcome and they made it pretty obvious we’re not welcome.”

Courfeyrac began marching towards the exit and the rest of them quickly followed. Leaving the jerks behind with the bar’s manager and bouncer and bill. Rather than try and squeeze in the elevator or risk getting caught while waiting for it they all made a beeline for the stairs. Bossuet bent to give Joly a piggyback and soon they were all making a break for it.

Soon they were all spilling out onto the sidewalk, laughing and whooping from the high of the fight still singing through their veins. “Now what?” someone asked as they haphazardly made their way in the general direction of the Federal Triangle metro stop.

“We celebrate our victory! To the House!” Courf crowed, still leading the way.

“But we got kicked out!” Joly pointed out, still on Bossuet’s back. “That’s not exactly a victory.”

“But they did too,” Combeferre shrugged. “A stalemate is not a defeat.”

“I don’t know if I’d call it a stalemate,” Grantaire quirked an eyebrow.

Jehan let out a loud whoop. “That’s because until they kicked us out we were WINNING!”

They all cheered at that and Enjolras raised his hands over his head as he clapped.

“Wait!” Eponine said suddenly and everyone stopped, turning to face her. “Where’s Marius?”

Enjolras furrowed his brow, he couldn’t remember seeing Marius during the fight. He looked around frantically, examining each of his friends. They would all need to use the first aide kit later but none of them were Marius.

“Did he ever come back from talking to Cosette?” Musichetta asked.

That’s when it hit Enjolras. “No,” he breathed out, “he didn’t.” They had left poor Marius behind. He probably hadn’t even realized that they were the ones in the fight. Granted, he could infer, but still.

“Someone call him,” Combeferre said firmly but Eponine already had her phone out and put it on speaker. They all crowded together around her.

“Eponine?” came the small voice from the phone. “Where are you guys?”

“Ohmygod, Marius are you ok?” Eponine asked quickly.

“We got kicked out, we’re on the other side of Freedom Plaza,” Enjolras said at the same time.

“Oh thank god, I was worried. I mean, I saw the fight but then it was over and you were gone and now I’m standing here with the manager and she’s really pissed,” Marius said in a rush. Enjolras winced. When he spoke again it was softer, just above a whisper. “I managed to keep her from pressing charges or making you pay damages, but you’re all permanently banned.”

Everyone seemed to let out a sigh of relief and Enjolras distinctly heard Bahorel mutter “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Marius you’re a life saver,” Enjolras said honestly. “Meet us back at the House as soon as you can. We all owe you one.”

A chuckle came from the phone. “Ok, see you in a few.”

They all chorused goodbyes and Eponine hung up.

“Well that was close,” Grantaire drawled.

They all looked around at each other a little shell-shocked as the night’s events began to sink in. Enjolras caught Grantaire’s eye and smirked. “At least we’re not dead.”

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't been to the rooftop bar at the Willard but I know it exists!


End file.
